Courtship Rituals
by Irritus185
Summary: Meet a nice girl. Shake her hand. Congratulations, you’re married. What? You don’t think it’s legal? Well, guess what – in our world, things like laws, common sense, and consent don’t apply. Get used to it. And say hi to the missus for us.
1. Intimate Unmentionables

Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina. Because if I did I would make sure that abomination of an anime never existed!

**Courtship Rituals  
Chapter 1: Intimate Unmentionables  
By Irritus185**

This is a story of adventure, love, and shotgun engagements,

And like any story that features forced wedlock, it begins with a misunderstanding.

There once was a pair of panties. For the sake of the narrative, he shall be referred to as Fred. As to why a female undergarment is referred to by a male label, it can simply be explained as thus – who else would love to be planted against a female's bottom more than a guy?

Also for the sake of the narrative, please do not ponder too much on the rationalization.

Now Fred was nearly indistinguishable from any of the other pairs of underwear – he was made of cotton, was dyed in a pleasant light teal color with a red bow on the front, bought on sale at a local clothing store, and was owned by a young girl. Perhaps the only thing unique about Fred was that his owner had less modesty than other girls and was prone to unintentionally flashing him at people via high-rise launching kicks.

But the one thing that Fred would unleash onto the world, the one thing that Fred would be known by all panty-kind for, was the fact that Fred was a revolutionary. Fred thought outside the box, he did not obey the laws that had been passed down from panty to panty since the beginning of time.

No, Fred was special.

For Fred was the first pair of panties to purposefully don himself on the top of the human body, rather than the bottom. And because of this, paved the road for the great Harem Master himself (though to this day he still denies the title and constantly reiterates his innocence in the matter despite his crew of very adoring, appealing wives convincing him he is on a daily – sometimes hourly – basis.)

So thus it was written – a kingdom was created because of an errant undergarment.

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It was like any other day for Fred. He had been worn, discarded, and prepped for his ritualistic washing cycle. Lounging on a pile of his kin inside a basket, he waited for his ultimate drop in the machine that would refresh him for another day of bottom protection. However, something different was heading for Fred, something that would brand him as a major turning point in panty history.

The 'thing' that was heading for Fred was actually a terrified-out-of-its-mind human ballistic missile. Unable to perceive its trajectory due to a lack of corrective lenses, the missile crashed into the basket, jostling it out of his master's hands, and flinging both him and his brethren and collective relatives every which way.

It was then, while Fred found himself floating in the air, awaiting his inevitable fall to the floor, that an idea struck him. Well, actually, first a head hit him, then the idea. But it was from the head that the idea was born.

Why should he lower himself to just carry on his life on a person's lower extremities? Why not on the upper ones as well? He had a perfect perch to start his regime, so why not now?

With that thought firmly lodged in his mind, he latched onto the person's head, pulling himself down in such a fashion that he would not be accidentally extricated. With a triumphant flap, he was ready.

And so, it had begun.

CRCRCRCRCR

Su fell backwards as the person crashed into her, dumping the pile of dirty laundry on them. She spun deftly on the heels of her feet, her lithe musculature making it easy. However, what awaited her was a sight that almost made her slip off her feet entirely in awed shock.

It couldn't be, could it? The person didn't even make a hasty apology, instead dashing out of the changing room as quickly as he could while her inmates jumped into their clothes to give chase. Su just stood there, her mouth slightly agape.

She hadn't just seen what she thought she saw, right? If so…it was like something out of one of those fairytale books Shinobu was always embarrassed to be caught reading. She knew that by coming to a foreign country, magical things could happen. Not the literal magic that her homeland was steeped in, but rather…rather…

But if she was had truly seen it, and it wasn't some delusion brought on by her rare bouts of fantasy, then that would mean…She quickly followed after the mob.

After a small run through most of the inn, she, along with the target and her friends, found herself on the roof of the inn. The man they were after was trapped in a corner, clutching a towel to his otherwise nude form and the object of her fantasies strapped to his head. The boy was stuttering something about visiting his grandmother, but Su couldn't care less about that, so enraptured was she by the possibility of what he intended to do.

And with that in mind, she took her first step forward into a brand new world.

CRCRCRCRCR

Naru, her face red with a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and anger, raised a fist in aggression at the male who dared to peep on her in the spring. Her mind had thankfully erased the fact that _she_ was the one to offer such a view in the first place, but that could be accepted due to the man's ensuing crimes of groping, panty-stealing, flashing, and all-around lechery.

"You…you…How dare you think yourself innocent?"

"Wahh!" Keitaro covered his arms over his head, foregoing holding up his modesty in turn to instead protect his noggin. "I'm sorry! It just sort of happened! I don't know what I was thinking!"

"How could not know!" she roared. "Are you…" She trailed off when a headful of blonde hair stepped dazedly in front of her. "…Su?"

Su's face was oddly red, a subdued contrast to her tanned skin. Her eyes were strangely glazed over, and there was a dreamy smile on her face that Naru had never seen before, not even when the foreigner had discovered banana-crepes. Her steps were shaky at best. For all intent purposes, it looked like she had suddenly suffered from an instant flu, since there had been nothing wrong with her even an hour ago.

"Su, what are you..?"

"Is…is it true?" Su's voice was shaky, uncertain – completely unlike her usual energetic, confident self.

"Eh?" Keitaro didn't know what the tanned teen was talking about, but at least she didn't look like she was about to pummel him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" She looked almost…vulnerable. "That it just happened? That you didn't know why you did it, but you couldn't help it?"

Keitaro unexpectedly found a lifesaver thrown out to him in a sea of potential pain. Not even paying attention to how the question was worded, only that it could possibly get him out, he latched onto it with a fervor that set Su's nerves on fire.

"Yes! Yes! It just happened! I didn't mean to be crass or rude or perverted or anything! I just thought…I don't know what I thought! I'm sorry if I caused any trouble!" He bowed quickly, hoping against all hope that it would work.

"You… you…" Keitaro looked up and immediately paled. The redhead was, if it was possible, even more pissed off than before, the girl in kendo garb was setting her bokken into a stance, and the foreigner was looking down, her eyes shadowed by her hair. The fox-faced girl and the azurehead were just standing off to the side. Naru clenched her fists tighter, the white knuckles popping with strain. "You even _admit_ to it…"

With that she and the kendo girl stepped towards him, clear-cut brutality promised in their eyes. Keitaro whimpered at the definite beat-down about to commence.

It was all halted, however, when Su looked up, her eyes shining with tears. With one quick, almost unseen movement, she jumped at the man, her arms outstretched. Out of her mouth sprung a melody that sounded like angels singing mixed in with nails on a chalkboard. " ≤ !"

"What the-hmmph!" Keitaro was refused a rebuttal as his mouth was currently ravaged by eighty pounds of affectionate, tropical girl. With her arms and legs pinning his own appendages to the side, he had no way of regaining his balance from the momentum of the propelled female.

He took two steps back, leaned on the railing, heard it groan as years of wood-rot and disrepair finally wreaked havoc, and crashed right through, plummeting into the hot springs below. The entire time, the cavern of his mouth was not once relinquished by the foreigner's probing tongue.

The other girls stood in what could only be described as 'shell-shocked disbelief.' They didn't even move when the acting-housemother made her way up and surveyed the damage caused.

Haruka chewed on the end of her cigarette. "Anyone wanna tell me what the hell just happened?"

They looked at each other then back at Haruka. Her left eyebrow twitched.

"God damnit."

CRCRCRCRCR

Slowly, awareness dawned on Keitaro. Opening his eyes, he found himself lying down in the main lobby of the Hinata-sou. His mind still focused on his last moments awake, he dreamily put his fingers on his lips. Was what happened real? Had he really just been assaulted and molested by some crazed foreigner?

He was interrupted by a dully amused voice, low enough it was almost baritone. "So, looks like you finally woke up, huh, nephew?"

A quick survey of his surroundings revealed his cousin-turned-aunt. "A-Aunt Haruka? What am I-?"

"Suami, you're awake!" Keitaro's head was forced back down, and he discovered that same crazed tanned girl right above him, staring into his eyes. He didn't even have time to react before the Hoover descended on him and sealed his lips.

After a minute or so of flailing limbs, Keitaro's body finally went limp. Su detached herself from the older boy and licked her lips, a pleased gleam in her eyes. "Suami's such a good kisser. I just wish he wasn't so passive."

Haruka slapped her forehead. "Crap, Su. How many times are you going to do that?"

She grinned. "As many times as I want. He's my darling suami, so I have the complete right to."

"Could you at least wait till you explain what's going on?"

She crossed her arms, closed her eyes, stuck her tongue out, and pondered. After a short while, she opened her eyes again and nodded. "Alright, but then it's back to snogging!"

Haruka had to resist whipping out her halisen. It was one thing to hit her unlucky (and he had to be _truly_ unlucky for this to happen) nephew, another to smack a tenant of her grandmother's inn, and yet another thing completely to clap a member of royalty upside the head.

Especially since that red dot had crept up to her forehead ever since she started tapping her fan on her leg. She was just glad she had managed to herd the other girls into a different room and make them promise they wouldn't interrupt. Her eye roved over to the thin door a few meters to her right. Already it was straining with what was undoubtedly her wary wards.

Keitaro finally woke up again, but this time he instantly leapt from his position of lying on Su's lap to a new one of plastering himself on the wall. "Wh-what the hell is going on?" he squawked out. "Aunt Haruka, tell me!"

She sighed. "Look, Keitaro, just calm down and-"

"How can I calm down?" Keitaro squeaked. "I come to grandma's inn to try and find a place to study, and instead I find nothing but girls exposing themselves and trying to kill me! And now _this_ one," he pointed at Su who was grinning cheekily, "is suddenly making out with me? What the _hell?_"

"Keitaro, unless you calm down, I'm going to have to _make_ you calm down, and we don't want that to happen, now do we?"

Keitaro froze at Haruka's expression. Distantly he recalled when they were younger and she had given him the same ultimatum and look. It…wasn't life-threatening…but it wasn't pleasant either. Gulping loudly, he nodded his head, bit his lips, and waited.

Seeing that her younger cousin had managed to calm down somewhat, Haruka heaved an internal sigh. Now if only she could explain the circumstances without having an aneurysm in the process.

It was going to take a _lot_ of cigarettes and alcohol to get her over this incident.

She gestured at Su. "This girl is Kaolla Su, a tenant at grandma's inn." She chose not to mention the inn's conversion into a girls' dormitory, for she feared that with what was coming already, it would be enough to bypass Keitaro's apparent immortality and send him to a premature grave via massive, consecutive heart attacks. "And she's…well, she's…" Haruka failed to come up with an easy way of saying it.

Su, however, succeeded. Quite succinctly, too. "We're married, suami!"

Time stopped. Keitaro's jaw whined as it moved up and down, gears scratching against each other. "…what?"

Oblivious to the situation, Su reiterated herself. "Uh-huh! We're husband and wife! Isn't that wonderful?"

"…what?"

Haruka sighed and took a puff. "Su is the princess of the royal family of Molmol, a small island a couple hundred miles southwest of Japan. To allow her entry to Japan as a part of her study-abroad program, grandma agreed to have the inn turned into an official Molmolian embassy. What that means is we're technically on foreign soil, so any laws, customs, and rules that they have apply here."

When explained to the other members of Hinata-sou, it clarified a lot of things. Such as Su's capabilities in creating technology far ahead of the curve in Japan without having to refer to any particular zoning laws – like the rule of thumb on carrying nuclear reactors. Or Motoko being able to carry swords in plain sight despite the blade-banning act running all the way back to the Meiji-era. Or simply just the usual chaotic going-ons at the inn.

Diplomatic immunity was the only barrier preventing each and every one of them from being sent to the big house or funny farm or even child services.

Loopholes in the law are a wonderful thing, aren't they?

Keitaro didn't take to well to this benefit.

"Bu-bu-bu-but how did I get married to her? I didn't propose to her or anything!"

"Of course you did, suami!" Keitaro twitched once, twice, then turned to face her. Su smiled. "You proposed in the formal way of Molmol, by wearing the underwear of your lover upon your head like a crown."

Thought processes grinding to a halt, Keitaro's hands reached shakily for his brow. He carefully removed the fabric from his head and looked at it. Fred – though Keitaro didn't know him by his given name – looked back up at him in all his cotton glory. A small trickle of blood weaved its way out of Keitaro's nostril. His voice was shaky as he spoke up again. "Bu-but, isn't that kind of dangerous? Can't just anyone accidentally get some on their head?"

"Well, it's not _that_ easy. The underwear…" Here, Su's face grew a rosy red, she averted her gaze and started to poke her fingers together. Keitaro felt the bottom of his stomach fall out from underneath itself. "The underwear has to be freshly worn, too."

The trickle became a geyser and Keitaro was hurled backwards by the pressure. Su squealed girlishly and held her cheeks in her hands. Haruka watched with a grim look on her face. Bad enough that Keitaro was stuck in this kind of situation, but the way that Su was acting was beginning to _really_ creep her out. It was like seeing a snow leopard launch itself at you, give a sniff, and then suddenly declare it had gone vegetarian because it couldn't stand the sight of blood.

It was _weird_.

Su giggled, unaware of the havoc she was wreaking. "It's so romantic. I thought that if I went to a new country I might get a cool husband, but to be proposed to like back in my homeland, it's…it's…Kyah! ≤ !"

Keitaro was shaken to his core. He was married? To a girl he had never met before? But what about Tokyo University? What about the promised girl? Was he really just going to sit back and be taken by an adorably exotic girl with oodles of money, power, and future sex appeal?

A part in the back of Keitaro's mind wondered why the hell he didn't just accept the offer. What was he, gay?

It was suitably flayed and left for the buzzards.

Picking himself up from the coagulating pool of his own blood, he wiped an arm across his nose. "But we don't even know anything about each other. How can-"

"My name is Kaolla Su, daughter of Mamba Su, third ruler of the Su dynasty of the Imperial Kingdom of Molmol. My likes are bananas, spicy foods, creating weapons of mass destruction, and of course my new, dear suami. My dislikes are boring people, having to follow the rules of the Geneva Convention, and pomegranates. My dream is to have six and a half children and rule the entire eastern hemisphere. I was born January 11th, 1985. I'm currently thirteen years old, and my three sizes are-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Keitaro interrupted, his face even redder than before. Then something she said popped into place. "Wait, you're thirteen?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "But don't worry. Thirteen is the age of consent for my country, so you're not breaking any laws."

"But that doesn't mean we should get married!"

Between blinking, Keitaro found Su in his face. Her lips were in an irresistible pout, her eyes watery, ready to burst, her arms on either side of his chest. "Why, suami? Don't you like me?"

"It's not that I don't like you, it's that-"

"Then do you hate me?"

The reasoning centers of his brain fritzed out as a massive amount of cute-pouting-girl fried his circuits and caused his tongue to go a-waggling. "No! I couldn't possibly hate-!"

The sad look on her face was immediately dropped for a beaming one. Keitaro's brain short-circuited even further, leaving him a drooling, deluded mess. "Then we have no problems!" Su crowed. She pecked Keitaro lightly on the lips before standing up and whipping an arm out, her whishing schoolgirl outfit giving a tantalizing view to the collapsed two-time ronin. "Raulla!"

The door to the room slammed open, and the plethora of Hinata-sou's tenants came tumbling inside into a dogpile. Standing above them was a tall woman of the same ethnicity as Su, her raven-black hair tied in dreadlocks, matching her sharp three-piece suit and a 9-mm gun slung just to the left of her ribs.

"_Ma'am,"_ she asked, in that similar oxymoronic-melodic language as her mistress.

Su grinned. "This is Raulla, head of my personal royal bodyguards. As soon I received your proposal, I sent for her so that we could hold the official ceremony at home." She waved at the Hinata crew. "Hi, guys!"

Shinobu balled her hands near her mouth, her eyes all teary and starstruck. "Uwaaa…I can't believe Su's a real princess! And she's getting married to her own prince!" Haruka blanched at the concept of someone calling her cousin a 'prince.' Well, technically she supposed he _was_ a prince now, since he was married to a honest-to-goodness princess.

Kitsune framed her chin with her thumb and index finger. "Here I thought I was good at catching guys, and Su went and got herself a husband." She clasped a hand on Su's shoulder. "You've totally surpassed my expectations, kiddo."

Motoko clutched at her katana, this time a real one. Her mouth was a strained neutral line, the corners of her lips trembling every so often. "As much as this pains me to say it, I'm happy for you, Su. Even though this man is an obvious swine, it's your decision to make."

Su was overtly relieved by Motoko's acceptance. She was afraid the kendo girl would show the most resistance, and even though it took Haruka threatening to evict the girl to prevent her from attacking Keitaro while he was unconscious, she was restraining herself quite well. "Aw, thanks, Motokos."

"However." Keitaro felt the prickle of repeatedly-folded steel against his throat. He began to sweat at the savage look on the taller girl's face. "If I find out that you harm one hair on Su's head, or do anything to displease her, know that my blade will be the last thing you will ever see."

Keitaro didn't nod, gulp, or say a word. He just blinked repeatedly. Motoko took this as a sign of comprehension and removed the blade from its perilous position.

Naru wasn't accepting the current events in such good graces. "Are you serious?" she shouted, catching everyone's attention. "You're just going to marry some random stranger? Who knows what he's like! Doesn't anyone here have any common sense at all?"

Someone patted her on the shoulder. She turned to see Haruka shaking her head. "Trust me on this, Naru." A wry smile split on her face before disappearing. "Just learn to accept some things without thinking about it too much. It'll be easier on your sanity.

"And on that note!" Su swept around again. _"Raulla, bring about the royal airship and prep for launch! We have a wedding to prepare!"_

"_As you wish, your highness."_ Raulla retrieved a walky-talky from her suit and spoke into it. _"Lower the Amallan Kaollan. The princess and her newly-minted husband will be boarding."_

The walky-talky crackled back. _"Roger."_

The sound of turbine engines roared through the air. The windows banged back and forth and shadows danced around the room as something huge descended just outside the inn. But even amongst all this action, Keitaro still tried to make one small break.

"Now listen! I can't just-!"

"Raulla."

The lady phased out of existence before appearing right next to Keitaro. She pulled out what looked like a syringe loaded onto a gun and jammed it into Keitaro's neck. Whatever was injected had to be a powerful sedative, for the boy felt all his strength sapped away and darkness claimed him within a matter of seconds. There also must have been a mild hallucinogenic mixed in as well for he kept muttering something about jello monkeys and pink snowmen. He fell limply to the floor, a mass of drool draining from his mouth. Raulla threw him over her shoulder in a fireman's carry and gave the thumbs-up to her mistress.

Su returned the gesture and grinned. Turning to her innmates, she said. "I'll see yas in a week when the actual ceremony takes place, but for now I gotsa take my hubby to meet his new in-laws." She swirled on her bare feet, set her jaw, and threw out a hand.

The door burst inward, revealing a massive blimp with the insignia of the royal family – the mysterious trinity of eyes.

"To Molmol!"

CRCRCRCRCR

Groggily, Keitaro woke back up to the real world. His head was splitting, and he grimaced in pain as the light from outside shot through his eyes like a needle. Damn, if this was one hell of a hangover, he wanted to know what caused it.

The memories trickled back to him.

Oh, wait, he'd done no drinking yet, but that wouldn't stop him from hunting down alcohol as soon as possible.

Keitaro shot up then groaned as the quick movement banged around the inside of his skull. He decided that it would be better to take in his surroundings before he tried anything else, or at the very least find some aspirin.

He was on what had to be one of the gaudiest beds he had ever seen, even more so than those he'd heard about in love hotels. It was a four-poster with thick satin curtains with a translucent inner layer, heart-shaped pillows, and a mattress soft enough that it felt like sleeping on a cloud. Keitaro actually had to struggle to gain enough leverage to get to the edge of the bed. He heaved a sigh of relief.

The rest of the room, while not as tasteless, was certainly just as extreme. It had a jungle motif, with what he could only assume were real trees and plants from the rainforest, a small pool that closely resembled – both in size and depth – the hot springs back at Hinata-sou, as well as…

"Is that a monkey?"

The small simian hung upside-down from the bough of a banana tree. "Ook?" It stared at him intently, and Keitaro swallowed nervously at the quickly deteriorating expression on its face. Then it all went wrong. "Ook eek!"

"Gahh!"

He fell back as the monkey launched itself at his face. He couldn't do anything as it wrapped arms, legs, and its prehensile tail around him in a vice-like grip, refusing to budge.

The scratching soon commenced…and it was painful.

"Paru!"

The monkey stopped its assault at the voice and detached itself from Keitaro, leaping away. Keitaro sat up anxiously, his face a mess of scratches, wondering what calamities would befall him next. The sight that awaited him was a surprisingly pleasant one.

Su had changed into clothes more suited to her land of origin. What accounted to a halter top and bikini briefs was wrapped in a light toga equivalent. She had bangles and anklets of various precious metals jingling merrily against one another. A golden necklace hung close to her throat, inscribed with three staring eyes arranged in a triangle.

Su lightly scratched the monkey under its chin, and it chattered contently on her shoulder. She smiled. "I'm sorry for Paru's behavior, suami. She's not accustomed to strangers in my bedroom." She kneeled down, and Paru jumped, nodded its head once, and ran back to its perch in the banana tree.

"Bed-bed-bedroom?" Keitaro stuttered. Sure he assumed he was in a bedroom, but Su's? No, wait, that was stupid; he meant he was in Su's? Su's?

_Su's?_

The princess grinned cheekily and jumped at the boy, knocking him over and pinning him to the bed. "Yup, mine, suami." She rubbed her cheek against his, and Keitaro fought and failed to push down the blush spreading across his face. "Ahh…your cheeks are so soft, suami, just like a girl's." She took a whiff, her nose buried in his hair. "And your hair smells soooo good."

Keitaro blanched. "Okay, that was weird." He slapped a hand over his mouth when he realized he said that out loud.

Su shrugged and settled down onto his chest. "Maybe, but you're mine now, so I can be weird with you as much as I want."

Keitaro inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out. "Uh-huh." It was probably the remains of whatever had knocked him out, in addition to causing his splitting migraine, that was making him a lot calmer than he would usually be in such a situation. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't anxious beyond belief. He tried to look anywhere else than the petite girl sprawled on top of him. "So…where the heck are we?"

Su sat up, settling her weight uncomfortably close to his naughty bits. "We're on the flagship of Molmol's royal air fleet, the Amallan Kaollan!"

"We're on an airship?"

"Uh-huh!" she chirped, bouncing up and down.

Something awakened and Keitaro frantically tried to shut it down. _She's thirteen, Keitaro! Thirteen! Legal in her country but not in yours! She's jailbait! Jailbait!_

**But she's tasty jailbait.** Unbidden the looks of her blossoming curves came to mind as well as the sensation of her bare flesh against his.

_Shut up, you!_

**Seriously, are you gay?**

And then it was flayed a second time.

Su missed the rising show of conflicting emotions in Keitaro's expression and continued bouncing. Her new husband was so cute! Then, on their wedding night, they could play all night long!

She wondered if he was any good at Street Destroyer Combat XII?

She was promptly ejected from her questionable daydreams when Keitaro shot up with a roar, throwing her onto the bed. She grinned lecherously and brought up a phrase she had heard Kitsune jokingly use from time to time. "My, suami, you're so rough! Are you going to have your way with innocent me?" She had no idea what it alluded to, but the reactions it gained were hilarious.

Keitaro did not disappoint her. "No!"

Giving a mental shrug, she asked, "Then what is it?"

Keitaro huffed and puffed heavily. He looked at Su, the playful expression on her face and sighed. "Er, Su?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you accept my, er, 'proposal?'"

She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Hmm…I guess…because you look a bit like my older brother? Oh, and because it was the first time anyone's ever proposed to me, so I was really excited."

Keitaro screamed inwardly for the oh-so-very childish reason. "And what if this doesn't work out?"

"Oh, that's not a problem. Molmolians marry for life. We only have widows or widowers, no divorcees."

Su jumped up from the bed and grabbed his arm. "Buutt…before we even worry about that, you still have to meet my family!"

"…family?"

"Mmm! You have to get to know your in-laws, after all!"

"…in-laws?"

He died a little inside.

CRCRCRCRCR

By the time they landed, Keitaro's headache disappeared, but it was replaced by a deep sinking feeling that he was walking to his own funeral. He had just met Su, was married to her within not even ten seconds of their initial meeting, and now was going to meet her parents? This…this…

He wondered if it was a social faux pas to run screaming at the top of his lungs instead of saying hello. Surely they couldn't begrudge that minor mental breakdown in light of what he was going through?

Right, that sounded like the perfect plan. Greetings, then extremely vocal escape.

Su had climbed onto his shoulder during the wait for the docking procedures to finish. He didn't know how, but his wiry frame managed to hold her up fairly easily. It was like he had a large bird on his shoulders rather than a pubescent girl.

He snapped to attention as the hydraulics hissed, the blimp settled carefully down, and door swung open. What awaited them was an entire entourage of women dressed in the same fashion as Su's bodyguards. In the front was a tall women, even taller than Raulla had been. Her long, blonde, and unrestrained hair reached down to just below her waist. What looked like an officer badge, complete with the same trinity-eye symbol and red and gold stripes, was pinned on her suit, right above the heart. She barked out an order to the gathered women, and they all responded with a sharp salute.

Su's grin grew wider, and she rocked wildly on Keitaro's shoulders. "Mama!"

"…mama?" Keitaro squeaked.

The woman swept up to the married couple, her steps crisp and without waste. Keitaro noted that her face was sharp and angular, her eyes clear like a hawk's. He gulped when she stopped right in front of them, but then suddenly, the harshness of her expression melted as she looked upon Su. One hand reached over and ruffled the teen's hair. She said something, but Keitaro couldn't understand what. Su responded in turn, and the woman smiled and nodded before looking down at Keitaro.

"I welcome you, son-in-law," she said, her Japanese heavily accented. "I trust your journey here was a pleasant one?"

Keitaro tried not to swallow his tongue. "Umm…y-yes, thank you."

She nodded. "I am Mana Su, commander of the royal family's secret service and mother of Kaolla. I hope your stay here will be enjoyable, and I also congratulate you on your marriage. Now, if you'll follow me, my subordinates will usher you into the palace."

She then dropped her head, her amber eyes darkening, and whispered into Keitaro's ear. The clean yet inviting tone from before froze into something more poisonous and promising. "Though my daughter seems happy now, know this – if you do anything to bring harm to her or cause her to shed one tear, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and make you suffer through a thousand hells before granting you death's embrace."

Keitaro could do naught but whimper. Su curiously tilted her head at her husband's tensing, but shrugged it off and dragged him into the limousine awaiting them. Mana shut the door behind them, but not before shooting a venomous smile at Keitaro. He whimpered again.

"Your mom…"

"Hmm? Mama?" Su looked up from rummaging in the small fridge. "Oh yeah, she can be kind of scary sometimes. She's an expert with all kinds of firearms and knows about a dozen different fighting styles. Before she married papa and had me, she was some sort of infamous assassin." She giggled. "In fact, that's how they met! She was hired to kill him before he ascended to the throne in some kind of conspiracy to usurp the kingdom, but papa was so nice to her and just wouldn't die no matter how hard she tried, so she cancelled her contract and married him."

Well, actually she'd kidnapped the soon-to-be-king and rode him again and again to relieve all of her frustration, but by the time she had returned him, Mana had calmed down considerably and all was resolved nicely. But that was something the young princess did not need to hear, so it was thankfully omitted from the fairytale.

Keitaro laughed quietly, desperation lacing his every chuckle. Oh god, he knew it. He was going to die. That's all there was to it.

Su blinked at Keitaro's laughing and settled into his lap, snuggling for warmth. Keitaro did not even notice.

The trip took less than an hour, and soon the couple found themselves outside the palace. Keitaro had put aside writing a mental will, stating that he cursed every being in the world who had ever met him and a few others who hadn't for sending him into such a hell, to gawk at the majestic architecture. It looked like someone had crossed the Taj Mahal with a Las Vegas casino and then added in some Arabian Nights for flavor, but had somehow managed to pull it off with an artistic flair that _worked._

The limo slowed to a stop, and Su dragged Keitaro out by the arm, pulling down a corridor of bowing servants. When they arrived at what he could only assume was the throne room, he stopped at the sight of what awaited him.

Perhaps what he could only describe as one of the most beautiful women alive sat in one of the thrones. Shortly cropped hair as white as snow, and dressed in what looked to be a belly-dancer outfit, her voluptuous caramel curves were bared for all to see. Keitaro began to sweat with what he hoped was nervousness as the women danced down the steps.

"Kaolla!" she cried, her perfect Japanese surprising Keitaro, as she swallowed the smaller girl in a hug. "It's so wonderful to see you!" She turned to Keitaro, her smoldering eyes making him gulp for the god-knows-how-many-times that day. "And this must be your new husband…" She grabbed his hands, purring. "It's a pleasure to me you, Mr…"

"Kei-Keitaro," he stuttered. "Keitaro Urashima."

"Keitaro…" He shivered at the absolute wonton desire in her voice. "What a delightfully…_manly_ name."

Su puffed out her cheeks. "Don't even try it, Rubah-mama. He's mine."

The woman tittered playfully. "Oh, don't worry, Kaolla. I wouldn't dream of stealing your husband away. I can only imagine what Mana would do to me if I did." Her voice lowered. "She's so _forceful_, you know."

Su looked around. "Where's papa?"

"That silly man? Probably slaving away on another one of his experiments." She whispered conspiratorially, though Keitaro knew she was most likely doing it for his benefit since she was still speaking in Japanese. "Honestly, the days he spends locked up in that lab of his. It's almost like he doesn't have any time for his cute wives anymore."

Keitaro blinked. "Wives?" He had heard Su refer to two women as mama, but between Mana's threat and Rubah's overt flirtations, he hadn't connected the two till now.

Rubah grinned, and for the first time Keitaro noticed that her incisors were a bit longer than normal, giving her a rather canine and predatory appearance. "Why, didn't you know? Polygamy is not only allowed but encouraged in the royal family."

"…what?"

"It's to make sure that there's a suitable heir for the throne."

Keitaro felt his voice get stuck in the back of his throat. Su looked at him, her eyes wondering what was wrong, while Rubah was simply grinning even more lasciviously than before. Luckily for him, Keitaro didn't have a chance to make even a bigger fool of himself, for the wall across from them exploded, sending debris and furniture everywhere.

Unluckily for him, it just landed him in another foolish position.

Keitaro dizzily felt around from where he'd been thrown, but froze when his hand latched onto something that was larger than his hand with a distinctive marshmallow feel. Keitaro slowly looked up, his face ripe with anxiety. He wasn't disappointed.

"Why, Keitaro, I didn't realize you felt so strongly for me." Rubah gazed at the lad, her tone smoky. "Really, we just met, and you're my son-in-law. It's so…taboo." Keitaro envisioned being beheaded publicly, but not before being handed off to Mana. Oh, why did his life suck so?

"Rubah-mama! What did I tell you?" Su yanked Keitaro off the playful seductress, clinging to him possessively. "Hands off my suami!"

"Aww, I was just having some fun…"

"Mine!"

The catfight was interrupted by someone violently coughing. Through the smoke and dust, Keitaro could make out a large figure. As the particles cleared out, he got a better view. The person was a heavy-set man, broad-shoulder with a lightly-unshaven beard and looking to be in his mid-to-late forties. He was donned in work overalls and shirt, both of which were burned and oil-stained all over the place. A small pair of goggles rested over his eyes, and when he removed them, they were outlined with a dark border of soot.

Su's face erupted into a full-blown smile. "Papa!"

The man looked around, saw the trio and gave a wave. He was about to say something when a piercing screech resounded through the hall.

"Maaaammmmbaaaaaa!"

The entire structure of the palace quaked with the roar, and what few pieces that hadn't been knocked to the ground from the explosion fell victim to its wrath. The king of Molmol grinned sheepishly as another woman marched into the hall, slamming the double doors open with a strength belied by her small stature.

Pigtails that looped back to where they started bounced as her bosom heaved with every step. The brunette beauty stomped to Mamba, each foot producing its own little gale as the leather sandals slapped on the ceramic floor. When she reach him, she grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, lifting him a few inches off the ground, even though he was taller than her by a good half-foot or so, and began shaking him, screaming in her native tongue.

Though it was a foreign language, Keitaro knew a reaming when he heard it, especially since the woman was sprinkling a liberal amount of Japanese and English slurs and obscenities into the mix.

When she was done, she dropped the king to his knees and backhanded him. He went down without a sound. She turned to the trio, and Keitaro forced himself not to run. Suddenly an amiable smile spread across her face, and her eyes narrowed until she was looking at them through heavy-lidded eyes. She curtsied.

"Hello, Kaolla." She too was speaking in perfect Japanese, though her tone had a more proper, regal tone to it than Rubah's easygoing drawl. "It's so nice to see you again. And you must be Urashima-san. A pleasure. I am Queen Asoka." She extended a hand, the back of it facing up, like she expected him to kiss it.

Keitaro reached out to hold it, paused, and gave her hand a hesitant shake. "Umm, nice to meet you, Asoka-san." Something flashed through her face, and Keitaro had the instinct impression he had just failed some secret test.

Asoka pulled her hands back into her flowing robes. "I have read the report on you, Urashima-san, and I must admit I am a bit…" She pursed her lips, searching for the appropriate term. "_Surprised_ that Su agreed to this marriage. You are currently unemployed and a repeater for your country's college entrance exam, correct?"

Keitaro felt like she had just stabbed him with a large, serrated knife. And then she twisted it. "By what means did you feel you were a proper match for Kaolla?"

Great, so not only was he forced into a marriage with some crazed islander cutie, now he had her step-half (how the hell did he describe this kind of relationship?) mother grousing that he wasn't good enough? For kami's sake, he just wanted to get into college! Keitaro's lack of self-esteem and confidence had enough problems with just _him_ trampling all over it; it didn't need some haughty queen to do so as well.

He was saved when Mamba appeared next to them, looping an arm around Asoka's waist. "Now, now," he bellowed, his accent rich with a baritone charm. "We shouldn't bother our new son-in-law with miniscule problems like that, should we? This is a happy occasion, after all!"

Asoka responded with an elbow to the gut. "That's not the point, _dear_. We have to make sure that Kaolla's new husband is a good match for her."

A dribble of blood fell from the man's lips. "But it's too late for that, isn't it? They're married now under our laws. Laws that _you_ are so very fond of if I recall. Regardless!" He smacked her rear, eliciting a furious blush and stammering of denial. "I'm so proud of you, Kaolla!" Mamba gripped his daughter in a crushing bear-hug. "My daughter, already married and within the first few months of her time abroad. I don't think I've been this proud since you built your first orbital laser satellite!"

"And that's still keeping those mean North Koreans from causing trouble!"

"Indeed! Truly, this is a time of celebration!" He turned to Asoka. "Honey, tell Putri that a feast must be prepared! I'm sure she'll be exhilarated to cook for her new son-in-law." He leaned over to Keitaro and winked. "She makes a mean soufflé, and isn't too bad on the eyes either."

Keitaro laughed helplessly. How many wives did this guy _have?_ He wasn't exactly a looker, but the women that surrounded him had an obvious adoration for the man. So what the heck was it?

While he was wondering, Mamba gestured for the women to leave. "Go on ahead. I just need to have a man-to-man talk with Keitaro here."

"Don't break him, papa!" Su waved back.

Mamba watched as they left and then swung his arm around Keitaro, who noticed that it was almost as thick around as his entire waist. The man could probably pop him like an unwanted pimple if he wanted to. It wasn't a very comforting thought, especially when the man's expression lost its initial goofiness and morphed to something much more serious.

"So, how are things working out for you, son-in-law?"

All of Keitaro's inhibitions left him and he was rapidly babbling out anything that came to mind. Random things, maddening things, please-don't-squish-me-into-a-fine-and-colorful-paste things. So many things that Mamba most likely had no idea what the boy was trying to convey. They kept spilling out until Keitaro's lips were squeezed shut by the king's sausage-like fingers.

He smiled congenially. "Now, I'm going to let go, and we're going to try again. But slower this time." Keitaro nodded fearfully. Mamba released him.

"I'm so sorry, sir, but I didn't mean to marry your daughter, it just sort of happened, and then I didn't know what to do but then she started crying and was so cute and then some chick in a business suit knocked me out and I found myself in that blimp but it-"

"It was just an accident?" Keitaro halted in his ramblings and then nodded. Mamba grinned. "I figured as much. Molmol is not that well know in Japan, despite us supplying them with most of their weapons systems, so it's very unlikely that anyone living there would know our customs, let alone our engagement rituals."

"So why did-"

"I not prevent it or annul it in some fashion. I am the king, right? Surely I could find some loophole." Again, Keitaro simply nodded. Mamba sighed. "Because, I've never seen Kaolla so happy before – not when I first introduced to her to quantum physics, not when it was determined that she was the one who would ascend to the throne, not even when I granted her permission to study in Japan to try and make friends who didn't know she was royalty. Being proposed to, even accidentally, has brought her a joy I don't think I could ever duplicate. Besides…"

He brought Keitaro closer and winked. "That was actually how I got my first wife." Keitaro's jaw dropped and he stared. Mamba's grin grew wider. "Blame the follies of youth and my inability to steal panties without people noticing." His eyes grew distant, remembrance of the past dazzling through. "Asoka was so passionate, even then. Just wouldn't take no for an answer; said I had to accept the consequences and make her a proper woman." He rubbed his jaw. "Right hook's gotten a lot better, though."

Keitaro choked on the idea of the frosty-flame queen badgering Mamba into marital submission. He really hoped Su wouldn't turn out like that. He choked again, but this time it was due to actual pressure being put on his neck by Mamba.

He grinned again but, like several of his wives before him, the smile had a darker tint to it. "You've probably heard this already, but it's my duty as a father to say it. But don't worry, I'll make it short and sweet." Mamba ducked down, pulling Keitaro with him and cracking the younger boy's spine in the process. "I still have a few experiments that need a live subject, catch my drift?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Good kid!" Mamba pounded him on the back, pitching him onto the floor. "Well then, let's eat!"

Keitaro felt the only appropriate response was to cry.

So he did.

The heavens would be jealous of such weeping.

CRCRCRCRCR

After being shoved through a merciless gauntlet of bathing and dressing, both of which had him being attended by lovely young women – lovely young women who were disturbingly insistent on helping him undress, wash every body part meticulously, and then redress – Keitaro was led into the banquet hall. He couldn't help but gape. The room was big enough to fit the entire Hinata-sou inside of it, yet the only major points in the room was the nearly endless table located in the middle of it.

He plucked nervously at his outfit. It was reminiscent of what Asoka had been wearing, only it had pants as well as the toga-like upper-body apparel. It was very light, and he had all the mobility as in his normal garb, but it felt…tougher, more durable than his sweater and jeans. Keitaro was led to where the rest of the royal family was, and Su immediately latched onto him with a squeal of glee.

He noticed there were two new additions. One was a woman that seemed like a younger carbon copy of Rubah, only her hair was mid-length rather than short. She was wearing the same kind of apparel that Su was, but her clothes had more of a variety of color compared to Su's plain white clothing.

Her eyes washed over Keitaro, and the boy felt like he was being weighed and measured. It left him with the distinct impression that he was a piece of meat ready for auction. The woman smiled at his nervous expression. "Nice to meet you," she said. Her voice was husky, her Japanese having a dry, raspy quality to it. Keitaro shivered. "I'm Amalla, Kaolla's older sister."

"I'm…I'm Keitaro."

"I know. I've heard so much about you already." Her fingers lightly brushed against his bare arm. Goosebumps rose at the contact. "I hope we can be good friends."

A primal urge in the back of his mind commanded him to run away as quickly as he could. He was the prey for the hunter, simply waiting to be brought down.

Su took offense to her sister's overtures. "Bad Amalla, he's mine!"

"But Kaolla, don't you know it's better to share?" Her tongue darted out and slipped across her lips. "After all, I'm still looking for a husband, and you know how I like the shy, innocent types." The phantom sensation of her fingertips flared up. "So fun to corrupt."

Su growled, was silent for a bit, and then frowned. "Maybe later, but for now suami's mine!"

Amalla shrugged. "Fair enough."

The screaming increased in volume.

Rubah laughed and pressed her hands together. "She's a chip off my block alright."

Keitaro gladly shook off the ongoing sensation that he was totally and honestly screwed (most likely in more ways than one) to ask, "You mean that…?"

"I'm Kaolla's half-sister. Same father…" She glanced over at Mamba and then leaned onto Rubah slightly. "Different mothers."

"Ah." That would explain why Su had referred to Mana as her mother, but Amalla looked so much like Rubah. His gaze switched over to the last member. "Ah, erm…"

Mamba patted the small girl on the head. Her blonde hair was tied into twin ponytails, her petite frame barely coming past the man's waist. She was hidden slightly behind Mamba, and Keitaro could see her mumbling something, though it was too soft for him to hear. Mamba spoke up.

"She said, 'Welcome to Molmol and I hope you enjoy it here. Please tell me if there are any particular foods you like.'"

"Oh, um, thank you." Keitaro bowed, and the little girl blushed. She mumbled some more.

"She said that you're very polite."

"Thank you." Keitaro rubbed the back of his neck. "Erm, is she also your daughter?"

The royal family looked at each other and then burst out laughing. The girl looked confused until Mamba leaned over and translated for her. She grew even redder and mumbled more, but this time her voice was louder and higher-pitched, like a titmouse.

"She said she's a proud queen, and not a little girl, thank you very much."

"Oh! Err…sorry." Keitaro paused. His jaw dropped and he screeched out a startled question. "Ehh? Queen? You mean you? And her? You two? But how? She's…!"

Su tugged on his arm. "Putri-mama's actually a lot older than she looks."

"But she looks like she still belongs in grade-school!"

Su frowned. "It's a good thing she doesn't understand Japanese or you'd have one sore shin right now." She rubbed one foot against the other and grimaced, like she was remembering a painful memory. "She's actually turning thirty-five this winter."

"Thirty-five?"

"Yup! Now come _on_, suami! Let's go eeaaat! Putri-mama made so much delicious food for us!"

Still struck dumb by the new discovery, Keitaro didn't offer any resistance as Su dragged him to the table and shoved him down into a chair. The rest of the royal family took their seats, Mamba at the far end of the table while his wives and daughters sat to the sides.

Su looked around, her eyes searching for something or someone. "Isn't big brother here?"

Amalla sneered in derision. "He's probably excavating some ruin again. You know how much of an egghead he can be around them."

Su looked down. "Aw, I wanted him to meet suami. They would have gotten along great."

Keitaro didn't have time to ask about the new family member for he was soon distracted when the food was brought out. And there was _a lot_ of food – soups, salads, bread from every country, several types of curry, fish, meat, poultry, pasta, macaroni, rice, fresh vegetables, fresh fruit. All kinds of all types of all varieties – everything that had once grown and clucked and bayed and swam under the sun. Keitaro couldn't believe that all of it was cooked by such a tiny, frail-looking girl.

It was just too bad he couldn't sufficiently enjoy them.

As he reached for what looked like a filet of fish that had been deliciously charred, something bumped against his knee. He blinked but, not seeing anyone confess to it, ruled it as by accident and went back to his dinner. It bumped him again, this time on the inside of his leg.

That got his attention. He went stiff as the object traced its way deeper in. To his knowledge, there was only one thing that could be that dexterous. And from the way that it was angled…His eyes darted across the table. Amalla was talking with her mother with Rubah, laughing at some joke in her native language. There was nothing really wrong with the picture, but her eyes slid to look at him through the corners, and the corners of her lips quirked up ever so much, revealing she had the same canine-like teeth her mother had.

The object pushed harder.

Keitaro's reaction was instant. His leg jerked up, knocking aside the encroaching appendage. Amalla looked surprised for a second before her smile grew. The foot approached again. He kicked it once more. Her face became more grim and determined than capricious.

Legs battled with one another, diverting one before defending another's invasion. Keitaro tried to keep a nonchalant attitude during the assault, but it was taking all he could not to just shout out.

Finally, he managed to lock both legs with one and lashed his free knee up. "Ha!"

The entire table shook, jostling all of the trays and dishes. Keitaro smiled for one happy moment then howled as the pain struck him. He slammed his head forward, cracking his plate of food. Just as he did, something whished past where his head was, and the floor exploded into shards of tiles. Wind whipped around him and the entire royal family was blown from their seats.

Keitaro looked up to where the explosion had taken place, and found what looked to be like the remains of a rocket. He blinked.

The stained-glass windows to the banquet hall burst inward, men in fatigues and baklavas rappelling in. Each of them had some form of weapon on their persons – swords, combat knives, pistols, machine-guns, and even rocket launchers. One of them, possibly the leader, yelled something out.

"Oh, dear," Mamba muttered. "Looks like one of the rebel factions is attempting a coup de tat again." His easy-going demeanor as the invaders swarmed in only helped to further Keitaro's pants-wetting fear.

"Again?"

"You're wrong, dear." Asoka retorted. "This is the faction that preaches about keeping the royal bloodline pure. You know, not letting outsiders in and all that." She looked at Keitaro as if to punctuate her point. He whimpered.

One of the faction members raised an RPG and shouted something.

Putri squeaked and dove under the table.

"She said to duck."

The missile launched.

Keitaro screamed.

Whether it was in terror or pure happiness that he no longer had to deal with this, he'd never say.

Boom.

A/N: First chapter catch! The basic idea from this was the several Su-centric fics that involved Keitaro marrying her for some stupid reason or another, the most common being that he lived with her in the same building for a year. Well, I just took this one step further with the stupidity of marriage proposals. For those that are wondering, this is a harem fic.

_Next Chapter – See Keitaro Run! Run, Keitaro, Run!_


	2. See Keitaro Run! Run, Keitaro, Run!

Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina. However, I am currently holding it in an undisclosed location. Bidding starts at $50,000.

**Courtship Rituals**  
**Chapter 2: See Keitaro Run! Run, Keitaro, Run!  
By Irritus185**

Keitaro never quite got the hang of the Molmolian language.

Even after becoming the notorious Harem Master and being forced to learn several languages other than Japanese out of necessity for political endeavors, and even after spending years with his first two wives, who spent hours trying to teach him with…unorthodox methods (he never got far enough into baseball janken before the expanses of caramel skin either rendered him unconscious or drove him into a state that all his wives rather enjoyed), he just was never able to wrap his brain or mouth around the linguistics.

Molmolian was a lilting, rolling melody of words, more of a tune or song than any discernable alphabet. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised that the Molmolian natives had evolved more complex voice boxes or greater tongue articulation to achieve the octaves and trilling innate to the language.

…actually that made a lot of sense considering the techniques Amalla and Kaolla used when they double-teamed.

But that was neither the here or there. The truly strange fact of the matter was that although Keitaro never got pat-down the inflections of Molmolian, he was able to perfectly pronounce and decipher one critical phrase that in all likeliness cemented his feelings on Molmol's language and its culture in general.

And that was, "Kill the infidel."

Literally translated, it meant, "Lay his unclean body of clay upon a nest of fire ants, and may his flesh be flayed from his bones before being sat upon by an elephant while his soul is forever tormented by Kali and never take new life."

But for all intents and purposes, and less pressure on a lad's already fraying sanity, we shall just refer to the abridged version.

Oh, and there was one more phrase that Keitaro instantly knew upon mention –

Duck and cover.

* * *

If you had asked Keitaro before today, he would have honestly claimed he had never been attacked by zealous religious fundamentalists with a degree in blowing shit up.

He also would have claimed he had never been smacked in the face with the eviscerated carcass of a fish before either.

He missed those simpler days.

When the cheaply-constructed missile slammed into the table, instead of just reducing the furniture to its rudimentary components and sending the royal family in every direction, it gained the added bonus of showering the once pristine dining hall in chunks of food. It was there Keitaro soon became suffocated by a halibut jammed in his mouth as he was bodily flung to a side of the hall. Ripping the suspect aquatic life from his teeth, he discovered a scene that in all his wildest dreams and darkest nightmares he never thought he'd bare witness to.

Due to the lengthy and violent history of Molmol, where coup de tats, rebellions, and insurgences were as regular as the rising sun, and you could find a violent uprising from crazed military-sects underneath pretty much every rock and blade of grass, the royal family, and indeed much of the population, were adept with some form of combative measures.

Being that the current royal family had been put though no less than five raids, two batches of so-called 'freedom fighters,' and an airstrike from a disgruntled R&D employee within the last _month_, they were easily more equipped to fight off invaders then any bodyguards ever could. In fact, it was widely implied that the royal guards were there more to protect the royalty's attackers than their actual wards.

With widened eyes and a heartbeat that would probably burst his arteries in the next minute or so, Keitaro could see exactly why that theory had come to light.

Mana wasn't so surprising. She was a former international assassin, and it would be silly to assume that even after years of royal pampering her skills with garroting someone with dental floss would become rusty. The thing that did bug Keitaro somewhere in the back of his brain that _wasn't_ going through massive convulsions was where the hell was she getting all those weapons from?

The handgun and dagger made sense; those could be hidden in her meticulous security suit. The ones that ignored the laws of mass and size were the glaive, broadsword, semi-automatic rifle, and…was that a grenade launcher? Where in the blazes was she keeping _that?_

Asoka was keeping pace with her sister-wife, fending off attackers in a martial arts style that resembled what Japanese housewives did when they wanted to keep some physical semblance of their younger selves. Her hands moved in a graceful but deadly fashion, her entire body a languid, fluid flow in anarchy. When one of the terrorists moved to stab her, she grabbed the offending wrist and, with a flick of hers, sent the man in a gentle-starting but brutal-ending arc that resulted in a crack that Keitaro was afraid wasn't just the assailant's bones but the bloody floor _itself_.

Mamba dismissed any approach of grace or elegance, and put his greater size and weight to use. With a flippant grunt, he clothes-lined two of the attackers at once before smashing their heads together with a comedic sound like two coconuts clonking together. Barring further rebuttal, he waded back into the foray.

Rubah was handling herself well, and Keitaro reiterated to himself to not be caught alone in the same room as the madly cackling woman. That bullwhip looked like it _hurt._ And why were her opponents grinning and drooling like that? What was wrong with these people?

If it weren't for the idea he could be gutted at the time, Keitarou would have found Putri's skirmish hilarious. Though she was barely half the size of any of the terrorists, she was actually doing quite well. It probably had to do with the attackers underestimating her due to her falsely assumed age, but she was a full-grown woman…with a frying pan…and her meal had been ungratefully destroyed. And no one messed with a housewife armed with cooking implements; Keitaro learned that from his mother. So, with a squeaky cry of vitriolic rage that, if anyone managed to actually hear her voice, translated to, "Eat my Teflon fury, bitch!", Putri beaned the individual upside the head, snorted in stubborn victory and went after her next victim.

Su and Amalla's battle were probably the most terrifying, but Keitaro never got the chance to observe their combative capabilities because a rather scary and angry-looking terrorist was heading his way with a scimitar, and Keitaro was pretty sure the man wasn't about to carve out some sushi from the fish he dislodged.

No, that would make his life too easy.

* * *

Amalla had always been interested in what her little sister uncovered. Kaolla had always found the best things – whether it was food, weapons, animals, or (in this most recent case) boys. It was like the little mad scientist had an internal radar system that zoomed in on the most awesome things life had to offer.

Amalla wasn't a bitch. Though Amalla did feel somewhere in her heart that she would only be second best to a girl nearly eight years her junior, she couldn't begrudge Kaolla for that. The psychotic cutie was just too _happy_ to try and act superior to those around her, and her infectious attitude was almost impossible to beat. And Amalla didn't mind that at all.

She always made sure her darling baby sister had her fun with whatever she found first. And it was hard to be jealous of a girl that was always so eager to _share_. Amalla thought Su would actually be more adamant over the possession of her new husband. But…according to the girl's attitude and naivety towards romance, Amalla felt like_ she_ would get the first stab at the screaming groom when it came right down to it.

And the boy wasn't really all that bad. He was cute, and had that oh-so-very corruptible aura around him which drove her inner core of fire _wild_. Not all that buff, but if he could keep up with Kaolla even for this short period of time than his stamina…Amalla shivered at the very inclination of 'night sessions.' Yes…Keitaro would do quite nicely…

So when the newest bunch of slack-jawed idiots who thought they knew what was better for the royal family's lineage than the royal family themselves, Amalla knew she had to stake her claim in order to prove her validity to Kaolla and the effectiveness for a proposal of a… 'joint account.'

Dodging under a spray of automatic gunfire, Amalla hid behind an overturned section of the remaining furniture. Patting at her attire, she found what she was looking for and retrieved a long, expertly crafted flute. She grunted when more bullets hit the table.

"_I do not wish to hurt you, princess Amalla,"_ the terrorist stated while he crept up for a better vantage-point.

"_Really? Because the whole missile barrage kinda proves otherwise."_

"_The Loquacious Order of Objectified Neophytes understands that to protect the noble heritage of Molmol, sometimes harsh chastisement is in order to clear the chaff from the wheat."_

Awesome. They really were a bunch of LOONs. Just what she needed – self-satirical freedom fighters. _"And you think that bringing an outsider into the family will ruin that?"_

The terrorist sidled up to the table and carefully leaned over._ "You understand much. Just stay out of our way, and we will remove the stain from your glorious presence."_

Amalla tilted her neck up, looking at the man with the gun in her face out of the corner of her eyes. _"And lose the chance to sink my teeth into that cutie?"_ Her lips spread out into a cruel parody of a smile. _"Nah, I'll pass."_ Her mouth covered the flute, blew, and a sweet array of notes floated out.

"_Allow me this counteroffer."_

"_What counter-"_

Ivory teeth clamped onto his head.

He threw out one ethnic cleansing. She raised him one hungry, hungry albino crocodile. Now, usually this would require a third-party's judgment, but as the terrorist was currently being given a guided tour of a one-ton reptile's digestive track, we can cleanly declare who won the round.

While Shirou enjoyed his tasteful if loud meal, Amalla turned to where her soon-to-be-future hubby was.

And saw that some terrorist they had missed was attempting to fillet and castrate him. Well, that just wouldn't do! She _needed_ that body part to stay whole and attached! Huffing at the sheer inconvenience of it all, Amalla marched to the site of a boy trying to keep his little buddy right where he should be.

* * *

Su could almost cry. Here she was so happy with her new suami and her family having such a great meal together, and then those meanies with the various weapons and death-threats had to go and ruin it. And she was having such a good time with her darling! How _dare_ they try and destroy her happiness?

She was so lonely when she first arrived in Japan for her study-abroad program. It was meant to enrich her cultural experiences by living in a foreign country until she had assimilated it, and then return to Molmol a better candidate for the throne. But she was still a little girl in an unknown land far from home, and even though her stay was to be in the estate of one of the royal family's lifelong comrades, she was still completely out of her depth.

So it was with great joy that she had found such wonderful friends in the tenants of Hinata-sou, and especially happy when Motoko appeared, a person who could keep up with her physically-draining antics with little more than an exasperated sigh and scolding frown.

And _then_ her darling suami had appeared and everything was _perfect_. She would go back to Molmol, get officially hitched, return to Japan, and then use the inn as her base of operations for taking over the known free world! And she would have all the company she ever wanted and a playmate for the rest of her life!

And they wanted to deprive her of that.

This would not stand!

So it was with righteous fury, something that in such a lackadaisical person was utterly horrifying to contemplate, that Su was chasing a group of terrorists around with a handheld version of her positron blaster (originally made for the quick creation of toast), reverting anything the beam touched to base atoms as she screamed a litany of curses that barely passed the boundary of being 'poopie heads.'

However, she was soon knocked out of her girly-outrage when she heard her sweet suami crying for help.

Well…not so much help as casting down every god from every pantheon in existence, but the intended sentiments were there.

He _needed_ her.

So, one volley of mini-nuke warheads at the retreating targets to teach them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget, and she steadied herself to mettle out swift and karmic vengeance against those that dare defy her.

From an outsider's perspective, the attempt at a snarl on her face was downright adorable. This would be something to laugh about later, they were sure.

Now if they could only find where those pesky limbs were for reattachment…

* * *

Keitaro never was much a religious person. He had never thought about being a Christian, Buddhist, or Shinto, the most popular of Japan's religions. He never believed in the idea that there was some big guy up in the sky with some ineffable plan to determine whether humanity was worthy of inhabiting the world, or if some great line of spirits molded our lives to fit the most appropriate niche in society.

No, he just never was that kind of person.

But at that moment he would swear to uphold this one vow – that whether he lived or died from this encounter, he would make sure to do just one thing.

And that would be to find every stinkin' god and goddess and kick them squarely between the legs or whatever crevices they may be sporting.

Because it was the only available option to truly explain just what he surmised of his place and function in the world.

It was also the easiest way to fend off the scary man with the scary blade.

The terrorist's eyes bugged out of his skull when Keitaro lodged his iron-laced, leather moccasins in his crotch. Dropping the sword and cradling his nubblies with both hands, he slowly sank to the floor, manly tears streaming down his face in unbelieving despair. Keitaro took the opportunity to scamper backwards, finding he could run no further when he slammed his back against one of the many columns in the dining hall.

A hairline fracture snaked its way up the marble.

Abject fear encompassed his brain, forbidding any actions other than to curse his misfortune and madly wonder just what he might have done in a past life to deserve as such. He must have been a completely irredeemable individual. Did he enjoy kicking puppies as a hobby, or maybe laugh at homeless people?

What actions could have constructed such a life?

Keitaro's_ latest_ actions constructed a deeper loathing and desire to disembowel inside the terrorist, who had finally managed to recover from his debilitating blow. Picking the scimitar back up, the man advanced on Keitaro, his legs still wobbling was the heinous counterattack. He growled something in that melodic language and raised the sword.

"_Death to the infidel!*"_

*** "Lay his unclean body of clay upon a nest of fire ants, and may…etc. etc."**

"Duck, suami!"

"Shirou!"

Three things happened at once. Su's missile exploded when it made contact with the floor next to Keitaro and the terrorist, Shirou dove to consume the man, and the terrorist's sword came swinging down.

The blast altered Shirou's flight path, so he knocked Keitaro over instead, his teeth tearing into the unlucky lad's new clothes. It also destabilized the column's structural integrity even further, so that when the sword came scything down and missed Keitaro's skull by a matter of inches, it cracked into the weakened column and destroyed it completely.

With a groaning whine, the column tilted, gained speed from gravity and fell on the terrorist, who almost managed to spew his death cry of, _"Oh, Vishnu dam-"_ before he was rendered a squish mark on the floor.

The crash gave a sound of finality to the fighting. Everybody looked up from binding the defeated invaders to see Keitaro shakily stand on his feet. Dusty from the smashed marble and his clothes slightly ripped but none the worst for wear, Keitaro was simply glad it was over.

Then Shirou tugged on the material in his mouth, pleased at the taste and texture, and ripped the bottom half of Keitaro's outfit from his body, revealing that he had been going commando during the meal and ensuing fight.

The entire hall was silent.

Su squealed in virginal abashment and looked away, peeking through her fingers at the boy. A crimson blush had spread across her cheeks. "Suami! How bold! I never knew you to be so…majestic!" She didn't know why, but he was just so much…_grander_ than his first flashing experience, and she couldn't help but feel a delightful rush.

Amalla openly drooled at the sight. Oh yes…this boy would be hers come hell or high water. She would not let such an exquisite catch slip through her fingertips.

The rest of the royal family was suitably impressed. At least he would not leave his wives wanting.

Keitaro's mind just broke down, his eyes going vacant, an insane laugh emerging from the darkened regions of his psyche and springing from his mouth. Disturbingly enough, it was becoming a habitual occurrence.

Ah, repression.

* * *

Keitaro fell backwards on the luxurious bedspread. He looked around, taking in his room for the rest of his stay. The room was as big as his entire house back in Tokyo, dome-shaped, with an open-ended balcony to the outside, letting the warm breeze in. It was Spartan in its furniture, making it seem even bigger in comparison. A dresser there, a pool that doubled as a bathing facility there, beautifully crafted sculptures of what he assumed were the country's deities placed about; and this was supposed to be just one of the many guest quarters!

He sighed. Just what had he gotten himself into? Just that morning he'd been unceremoniously punted from his house for not giving up on attending Tokyo U and had decided to give his grandmother's place a try, and now he was engaged/married(?) to some wealthy and powerful islander cutie with a penchant for doomsday weapons and trying to asphyxiate him with her tongue.

After the dinner debacle, Keitaro came to see that he really had landed in his own personal hell, as the royal family took the event completely in stride and (after finding him some new, _tougher_ clothes) simply had a less eloquent dinner in a smaller dining hall meant for the servants. Actually, they had eaten dinner _with_ the servants.

By the way the cooks, maids, and others had accepted the royal family without nary a questioning remark (aside from how much they wanted to eat), it was a common event. Several of the maids had swooped in like hawks on Su, squeeing over the impending wedding and wishing her the fondest future possible. Others engaged the king and his wives in small-talk, like they had been friends since forever. Mamba even burst out into a rich, rolling laugh when one of the cooks taught him a new, dirty limerick. Keitaro could only assume that the first dining hall was just for special occasions, and that Su's family made it a point to create a friendly relationship with their subjects.

So – crazy family, crazy servants, crazy wife. And now – crazy him.

At least he didn't have to worry about Su ravaging him before the – Keitaro shuddered – wedding. Her father had made it clear that they would sleep separately until the ceremony was officially said and done, and wouldn't take no for an answer, even when the girl had gained temporary control over the castle's weapons-defense system and threatened a tactical strike.

So at least Keitaro had one less thing to worry about. But the main problem was…he was getting married! To some girl he never met before! Or heard of! Or was even vaguely related to in any sense! What about his promise girl? What would he tell her? Keitaro doubted women fell for a man whose pick-up line was, "Let me just ditch the old ball and chain."

The only upside to all this was what his mother's reaction would probably be like. Her son was getting married, to someone of wealth, power, and taste (though the last was debatable), and she would finally have the chance to get some grandkids. Sure, she would most likely deck him for springing it on her and not giving her the chance to plan the wedding, but that would subside once it came to light that – 1) neither of his parents had to pay for it, and 2) this would probably be incentive for him to drop his stupid college obsession.

There was no way out of it. Between his parents, Su's parents, and a multitude of servants who had brought him aside during the dinner to whisper congratulations lined with death threats, he was damned if he did and _especially_ damned if he didn't. Keitaro doubted there'd be a scrap of him left to execute after the conga line of Su's supporters got through with him.

He sighed. Really, what had he done?

"I don't know about doing anything wrong. I'd consider this a reward."

Keitaro shot up from bed and frantically looked around. He gagged at Amalla, who waved playfully at him. She was dressed in a more informal version of her dinner clothes that burned away any imagination Keitaro might have had left and replaced it with…something else.

Nope, definitely was not lusting after his wife's sister. Nope, no, nada, not at _all_.

"W-what are you doing here?" he said. "How did you even _get_ in here?" As far as he knew, Mamba had placed guards in front of his room so that Su couldn't sneak her way in (and the unspoken bonus that Keitaro couldn't sneak out.)

"I bribed them," she said simply.

Damn lousy customer service!

"Ok…Well…What do you want?" he asked warily, backing away from the smoky woman so that they were on opposite sides of the bed.

Her eyebrows rose at his unsubtle outmaneuvering attempts and decided to just apply brute force. She slid across the bedspread with a serpentine grace, settling uncomfortably close to Keitaro. He gulped. "Is there something wrong with getting to know my future brother-in-law?"

Keitaro felt the last part was questionable, especially since her eyes had a glimmer like she was undressing him with them. That screaming voice from when they first met came back…with friends. "N-no, I guess not…"

"After all…" Amalla leaned into him, entwining her arm with his and smushing it into her well-developed chest. Keitaro swallowed. Oh dear heavens! She wasn't wearing a bra! "It's important to get along well with family. Skinship is vital."

"I-I see!" he laughed. Keitaro tried to retract his arm but found that it was firmly lodged in Amalla's valley and refused to come back. Amalla's smile widened, a tooth slipping out. "I guess that's important! So! Um…how…are you?"

"I'm fine…" she purred. "I'm so very happy that such a nice person is becoming my little sister's husband. She's just so naïve at times, so it's good that someone like you is there for her."

He blinked. "Really? Su…I mean, Kaolla?" Finding that he was treading on less dangerous soil, Keitaro relaxed. "What's she like? I mean besides the whole face-hugger thing."

"You really did just have this sprung on you, huh?" Amalla mused

"Sorta."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me. The odds of having someone propose to Su in the traditional Molmolian way in a foreign country are astronomical." She narrowed her eyes and gazed at him suspiciously. "Of course, that begs the question of why you had my baby sister's panties on your head in the first place."

"It was an accident!" he cried. "I was running away from some angry naked chick and bumped into her and…"

"You were running away from naked women?" Amalla squeezed Keitaro's arm tighter, causing a lovely ripple-effect. "My, maybe you're not such a nice man, after all."

"That was an accident, too, I swear! I didn't know that the inn was an all-girls dorm or that she would just waltz in and start showing me her boobs or that…"

Amalla listened as Keitaro rambled on, finding his terrified features to be absolutely adorable. The boy had found himself in one delicious situation after another and, instead of taking advantage of it, had run away (quite vocally and vehement in his case.) That innocence and naivety tickled her fancies immensely. Oh, what she would do to break down those walls of inhibition…

And now he appeared to be winding down. "And then she _kissed_ me, and I-"

"I get it, I get it." Amalla cooed. "All just an accident." She stroked his head like a child. "Right?"

He morosely nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Well, there's nothing for it now. You proposed to Kaolla, and now you're stuck with her. Don't worry, though, she really is a complete sweetie once you get past her megalomaniacal tendencies and habit of experimenting on everything in sight. But as her husband you'll be exempt from that…probably."

"Probably?" he squeaked.

"Don't be so glum! Think about it! You're married to one of the world's greatest technological powers! Imagine the prestige and glory that comes with it!" she put forth. Honestly, she really didn't see what the whole problem was. Any commoner would be thrilled to be accepted into royalty. Heck, Amalla was born into royalty and she was thrilled at the prospect.

"And the assassins. Don't forget the assassins," he muttered.

"Well, yes, there are those, too." Amalla admitted.

Keitaro nodded. There were bad parts to the idea, but even he had to accept that maybe there were good parts as well. Like being related to Amalla. At first he thought she was just some sex-blown honey-pot what with her not-so-jokingly proposal of sharing Keitaro and her actions during dinner. But now that he'd sat down and had a talk with her, he was finding her company to be quite pleasant. She obviously cared about Su, and strong familial-ties were a big plus in his book.

Maybe he could get through this! Now if she would just let go of his arms so he'd stop entertaining these completely wrong and immoral ideas, he would be just fine.

"It's too bad though." Amalla sighed, looking away. "I'm actually a bit jealous."

Keitaro cocked his head. "Of what?"

"I'm years older than Kaolla and yet she's the first to be proposed to like that." She refused to meet his gaze. Her tone had taken a melancholy facet to it; totally different from her playful, flirtatious one from earlier. "Though I guess it's my own fault. I kinda make it hard to do so traditionally."

"Why's that?"

Amalla turned back around. Keitaro froze at the look in her eyes. Tempting swirls of mist in sapphire eyes stared at him, her vulpine teeth slipping out. Amalla grabbed Keitaro's hand and lowered it to the bed. She leaned over, and with a raspy voice that _demanded_ action, she rumbled into his ear, "I don't usually wear panties."

Keitaro looked down. His hand was placed in her lap, dangerously close to a break in her skirt. The triangle of shadow teased him, beckoning him further. Amalla sweetened the deal by lightly biting his ear.

Blood burst from Keitaro's nose, catapulting him away from Amalla's embrace and further onto the bed. Amalla crawled after him, her swaying chest moving like a sexy pendulum. Or maybe a sexy metronome, or _something_ that he just couldn't take his eyes off of and sweet _lord_ he just saw nip-

_No!_ Stop lusting after new family member! Bad Keitaro!

"Bu-but what about Su?" he blurted.

"What about her?" Amalla said. "She'll still have you. I'm just taking you out for a test-drive to make sure there aren't any kinks for her maiden voyage." She licked her lips. "Of course, that doesn't promise there won't be any _new_ kinks afterwards."

Amalla made it to his legs, which were paralyzed from the freight-train of sex running over them.

He tried again, willing his treacherous limbs to get moving. "B-but you're sisters!"

"So? Sisters share."

Now she was at his waist.

"Not like this!"

Chest.

Amalla paused, surprised at his resistance. She didn't expect him to be so resolute in his faithfulness to Kaolla. Most guys would unconditionally accept her advances. Amalla was certain there weren't any major flaws with her body, and that she was the epitome of the classic seductress with all her curves and inviting expressions and gestures. And here was a guy who was obviously affected by her, and yet refused her all the same.

Some part of her desired him even more now. Another… was not so fervent in its thought processes.

"What are you, gay?"

**Told ya.**

_No talking! Trying to escape possibility of sex!_

**Seriously, man, just admit it already.**

_Don't make me sic the censors on you!_

Amalla had crawled completely on top of him, her hands on both of his shoulders to hold him down, her silver hair pooling around his head to form a curtain. His eyes were delightfully panicked, and she swooped in for the kill.

Something clanged from overhead. Both hunter and prey looked up. A duct in the ceiling had been kicked open, which was strange, as Keitaro was certain that the room did not have a ventilation system. A tanned foot retreated.

"Suam~iiiii…!"

Oh, that explained it.

A tropical cutie took its place, rolled out of the duct, grabbed the edge and swung off it completely, diving through the air in an axe kick that bounced everyone off the bed and onto the floor.

Keitaro, taking whatever escape he could, grabbed for a person that was only a little less dangerous than the one before. Who cared if it made him look weak? That woman scared him in ways he'd never been scared before! Sexy, _sexy_ ways! "Su!"

Su blinked when Keitaro ducked his head into her chest. She then smiled softly and hugged him into a tender hug. "It's okay, suami. Su's here to protect you."

Amalla clucked her tongue and pulled herself up into a sitting position. "We were just having a little fun, Kaolla. Nothing to worry about."

Su frowned and stared daggers at her older sister. "You tried to seduce my suami!"

"Aww…but I thought we had an agreement," Amalla pouted.

"Yeah! You don't get a piece until I get a piece!" She grinned toothily. "And speaking of which…Suami~"

Keitaro stopped sniffling and looked up, freezing at the sight. Oh no, not…

"Give momma some sugar!"

The human-shaped leech latched onto his mouth again. Both Su's arms and legs wrapped around him, preventing him from prying her off. He yelled something incoherent before his face started to change colors and he collapsed to the ground, twitching erratically.

Su released his lips with a pop and licked hers. "He tastes like desert!" She grabbed his hand. "Now come _on,_ suami! Let's go explore the palace together!"

With a flying kick, she blasted the doors open from the inside, dragging a Keitaro who was floating between the veil of life and death and frothing at the mouth slightly. The guards posted gave a small yell of surprise, but quickly calmed back down when they saw it was just the youngest princess carrying her new suitor.

They weren't surprised that the princess had made her way in somehow. They weren't paid enough to try and solve the vast death-trap-laden labyrinth that was her mind. If they did, they'd be living off in castles of their own. So there was no point in worrying about it; let the girl have her fun.

Amalla sat cross-legged back in the guestroom, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She snapped her fingers. "Curses, foiled again." She stood up, looked to where her sister had disappeared with her hubby, and grinned wickedly. "I'll get you next time, my sweet little piece of ass. Next time…"

The guards outside also ignored the maniacal laughter coming from inside the room. Just another day in the royal family's household.

Explosions rang out from another part of the complex followed by a cloud of expletives that blotted out any other sound.

Just another day.

* * *

He had to run. Run until his heart gave out. Because if he didn't push himself to that extent, what awaited him was a fate far worst than he could ever imagin. Keitaro never thought he could possibly die from an excess of nookie, but in his time in Molmol, the fear of that concept was staked expertly into his mind.

The last few days had been an exercise in futility and predictability. No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the cycle of chaos that dragged him in screaming and with claw-marks everywhere.

In fact, he recognized that patch of scratches on the wall from yesterday when he passed it by.

Wait, no! He was supposed to _forget_ traumatic memories like that, not think on them fondly!

The daily grind was simple – wake up with Su jumping him, be suffocated, go breakfast, have a few implied and overt threats thrown his way by servants.

Get dragged on tours of the palace and surrounding areas, meet some of the natives, be threatened by them as well. Find himself in a darkened alley and wake up with hickeys all over his body. Get dragged back to socialize with his new in-laws, get threatened and/or teased and/or laughed at and/or insulted.

Have lunch, try to take a nap, discover Amalla in his bedroom wearing the newest fashions in air, run away, get side-swiped by Shriou. Be rescued by Su and then thrown around in what she deemed 'foreplay' but what he thought as being a test-dummy for martial and wrestling moves.

Snogged immediately after, be shown her workshop, see things not meant for mortal eyes, wake up again the middle of her 'experiments,' and learn how to taste colors. Snogged again.

Have dinner, bar his door, push every piece of furniture in front of it as leverage, weld the ventilation ducts that popped up every morning with a blowtorch he filched from Su's workshop, and then pass out from exhaustion.

Wake up next day, rinse, lather, repeat. No seriously, he had to rinse really well; some of those chemicals were hard to get off, and they _burned_.

So now he was in the middle of his routine, trying to escape but knowing that in the end she would just get him anyway. But by gods, he was going to extend the time between running and getting caught by as much as possible!

"Suuaaammiiiiii…!"

No time for thinking! Thinking is the body killer! Thinking is what gets his mouth cleaned out with an industrial-strength tasting appendage! Don't think! Run!

Keitaro rounded a bend and was grabbed by someone. He was yanked into an unmarked room. Su passed by, oblivious that she was walking right pass him. When Keitaro looked up to see who his savior was, he found…himself. An almost exact copy of him, though one with heavily tanned skin and green eyes uncovered by glasses, was smiling at him in amusement.

Keitaro stood up. So did his copy. Keitaro raised one hand and waved. His copy followed him exactly. Keitaro leaned in slowly to get a better look.

His copy chuckled awkwardly. "Are you having fun?"

"Wah!" Keitaro jumped backwards, his face clearly showing shock. When he realized what a fool he was acting, he look down in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, sorry. Thanks for helping me out there."

"No problem," his double said. He framed his chin and gazed at Keitaro in interest. "Fascinating. We really do look alike."

"Huh?" Keitaro said dumbly.

"Oh, where are my manners? How do you do?" He extended his hand. "I'm Lamba Lu, head of archives and history for the kingdom of Molmol." He smiled. "And you would be Keitaro Urashima, my little sister's new husband."

Keitaro hesitantly took the man's hand before his words sank in. "Little sister? But I thought…"

"Well, she's actually my cousin. You've probably met my aunt, queen Asoka?"

"Queen Asoka-?" He choked when he finally connected the two. "You're her nephew? So wait, you're the egghead that Amalla and Su were talking a…" He trailed off when he realized his indirect insult as well as seeing the playfully inqusitive expression on Lamba's face. "Er, sorry."

"Don't worry," he said. Lamba tapped the heavy tome he had nestled in the crook of his arm. "I can't really argue that I'm a bit of a nerd. I've always loved books and all they tell us."

Keitaro noted that underneath his toga the man had a toned physique. There was no way someone who spent all his time around books could gain a body like that. Lamba traced where Keitaro's eyes were looking and laughed richly. "Ah, well, I'm also partial to digging in the sand to find Molmolian ruins and artifacts."

"Oh…" Keitaro said. "Ah, right, got it." He looked around the rest of the room.

What Lamba had said was true – the entire place was packed with tons of books and various objects like figurines, ceramic pots and vases, and even what looked like a sarcophagus in the corner. It was a veritable museum, and Keitaro was impressed by the man's collection. It was obvious Lamba was enthusiastic about his trade, and Keitaro wondered if maybe he could ever find something to be so passionate about.

Aside from his burning desire to live beyond his twenty-first birthday, as he was certain that wasn't a career-plan so much as a self-preservation instinct. Over the last week, he had become very intimate with the concept and heartily endorsed the idea of living.

Now if he could only find a way to live that didn't involve crazy Indian royalty.

"I have to say I'm glad that Kaolla is getting married."

That surprised Keitaro. "Eh, why?"

Lamba didn't look away from the dusty volume he was removing from a bookshelf. "Because otherwise she would've married me as the crown princess, and though we are not related by blood, the idea was a rather…undesirable one to me." He glanced over his shoulder. "Plus there's the fact that she's barely half my age. I am not, how you Japanese say…a lolicon." He smirked jokingly. "I prefer my women a bit riper."

"I'm not a lolicon either!" Keitaro said forcefully.

"Really?" Lamba cocked his head. "But I hear it has quite the following in your country. That some men even go so far as to buy used-"

"It's not the norm!" he spat out. He crossed his arms, puffed out his cheeks, and looked off to the side. "Besides, I have a thing for girls my _own_ age!" Like his beautiful…Oh wait, right, that path was kind of blocked now.

Damn it.

Lamba raised his eyebrows at Keitaro's downtrodden expression and patted the younger man on the shoulder. "Ah, but you are much closer to her in age than I."

"By six years!"

"That will change," Lamba said. "Kaolla will get older, and then the age difference really won't be so bad."

"But it doesn't change it now!" Keitaro continued to retort.

"I suppose not." Lamba shrugged. "I understand how this must be difficult for you, but do not worry, it is not all bad."

Keitaro relaxed. "Really?"

Lamba opened the book and flipped through the pages. "Yes, of course." Finding what he wanted, he nodded and slammed the book shut. Lamba craned his neck to stare at Keitaro, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I assure you, it's not bad – it's worse."

Somewhere in the distance, bells tolled. Keitaro's jaw went slack, and his shoulders slumped forward, arms dangling like all their supports had been cut. He couldn't quite understand just why it was such fun to pick on him so. Lamba didn't actually laugh, but the crinkles on his brow and cheeks were signs enough that he was chortling on the inside. Keitaro tried to summon the anger to vent at his Molmolian double, but found that he was as empty and dried as a pond in the desert, and all he could do was let out a miserable groan.

"Why am I so hated?"

"I would say you have the opposite problem – that you are loved too much," Lamba said. Keitaro glanced up through his bangs to see that wretchedly satisfied smile plastered on the man's face. Lamba winked. "After all, you have the love of a great girl behind you…and in front of you…and on top of you."

"Lamba?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Lamba chuckled softly, though it wasn't mocking in the least; more like he was laughing at some inside joke that no one else knew of. It helped to sooth Keitaro's disgruntlement enough so that he didn't just growl at Lamba's next words.

"But really, you should not worry. Kaolla is a fine princess and I can assure you, she will be a fine wife as well." His face grew pensive. "Though as for her affectionate behavior, I can only wish you the best of luck and advise that you prescribe in a lot of calcium vitamins and energy drinks."

"Great," Keitaro muttered, finding Lamba's good cheer to have the opposite effect on himself. "That's all I need, more-"

The door behind Keitaro crashed open, and he was barreled forward when someone impacted with him. Tanned legs wrapped around his waist, arms hung loosely around his neck, and a cheerful face rubbed against his.

"Suami!" Su cried. "There you are! I was looking for you! Where were you going, trying to run off like that?" Her hold tightened, and the crackling of tendons and ligaments filled the air. She pushed her cheek deeper into his, marveling at the elastic and marshmallow-like qualities. So soft…!

"Hi, Su," Keitaro mumbled in resignation.

"Hello, Kaolla," Lamba greeted.

Su's eyes went wide at her cousin's presence. _"Big brother Lamba!"_ she said in her native tongue. Using Keitaro's shoulders as a springboard, she leapt off him and vaulted onto Lamba, the older man catching and swinging her around easily. _"Why didn't you tell me you were here? Papa and the mamas didn't say anything!"_

"_They don't know either,"_ Lamba replied_. "I wanted it to be a surprise."_

As the two caught up with each other, Keitaro slunk out of the room, glad to catch his breath now that Su had someone else to occupy her attention. Meeting Lamba had helped to solidify the fear he had been suppressing all this time – being royalty meant you were crazy, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It didn't matter if you were immediate or extended; being related was a guarantee into the nut house.

He was going to _join_ these people.

Keitaro slid down the wall, weeping quietly to himself. Forget it, there was no point in denying it. He was stuck with them all, and that meant he would just have to accept them and try to find his niche in their habitat, even if it meant deteriorating what little sanity he had left.

He bonked his head on the wall. Now that he had some semblance of a plan, he would have to find a way to go through with it. He gulped. And that meant getting ready for the wedding that would occur the day after tomorrow. Keitaro steeled himself and nodded.

Right.

Something puffed a blast of stale, warm air at him from the side. He turned.

Shirou stared straight back at him.

Keitaro opened his mouth to scream, paused, and closed it again. He stood up and patted the crocodile's head. "C'mon, Shirou, let's see if the cooks have anything for you." Without another word or gesture, or even waiting for the croc to respond, Keitaro walked away towards the kitchens.

Shirou tilted his head, snuffed, and followed after the lad.

* * *

Haruka still couldn't believe she was at her cousin's wedding. Quite frankly, she was shocked that Keitaro was getting married at all. That he was getting married to Su of all people, and that Su turned out to be the heir to an international powerhouse was just needless extra information. All that did matter was that her klutzy, loveable cousin had found someone to spend the rest of his life with, even if it was kicking and screaming the entire way.

Though she was stunned by the festivities going on when she and the Hinata crew had arrived, it wasn't much to keep her from losing her cool. Haruka had been to Molmol before with Seta and Cynthia, so the grandness of the city and its happenstance was no stranger to her.

However, she couldn't say the same for the tenants of the Hinata-sou, all of whom were whisking around, drinking in every aspect and view they could see from the windows of the limos procured for them. Shinobu was literally glittering with excitement, obviously layering her fairy tales on top of the reality of the situation. Naru was looking back and forth, nervous about everything but still enjoying herself. Kitsune had the same old calculating expression on her face, no doubt trying to find a way to profit from the entire event. Motoko was, as always, the calmest of the lot; at least on the surface. By the way he hand kept twitching, even though she was devoid of her customary blade, it was clear to Haruka that Motoko's nerves were frayed at the idea that her friend was about to get married.

No, what she was worried about was how her sister would react to the whole ordeal in the first place, as Keitaro's parents had been picked up separately from her and her wards.

Haruka frowned.

Actually, she knew _exactly_ how Aki would react – yell at Keitaro, probably smack him around a little, and then burst into tears, crying about how her baby was getting _married_. Compared to her younger sister, Aki always was the emotional one, which was amusing when considering the meanings of their names.

"Uwaaah, I can't believe Su's getting married," Shinbou said.

"Good for her," Kitsune said. "Maybe bagging a man will get her to calm down."

"Jeez, Kitsune, could you be any more vulgar?" Naru blanched.

"What? I was just being honest. Besides, I know you're hoping the exact same thing. Or would you like to have another one of her 'sleepovers' on your own?"

"I-I didn't say that!" Naru considered, her mind involuntarily replaying such horrors.

"Why would Su calm down once she's married?" Shinobu asked innocently.

Kitsune leered and hooked an arm around Shinobu's shoulder, pulling her in. "Well, ya see…"

Naru grabbed her friend before she could corrupt the pure cook and covered Kitsune's mouth. "She means that Su will have a regular playmate, and she won't be as active," Naru laughed.

Shinobu frowned. "But I don't mind playing with Su. Even though sometimes she can be a bit rough." The girl's idea of tag was more rambunctious than any version Shinobu had ever played. Why would they need so many bananas?

Kitsune slipped from Naru's hold and grinned foxily. "Then maybe you can join them in their playtime."

"Kitsune!" Naru yelled, shocked by Kitsune's scandalous behavior

"What? You know how Su loves to share everything she has. Shinobu's her friend, so I'm sure she'd be willing to lend her husband"

"That doesn't mean you just go and say things like that!"

"Well, I wouldn't want to be a burden but…" Shinobu trailed off when the implications Kitsune had been making finally made sense. She made an 'eep' sound, her cheeks hemorrhaging, and her eyes rolled back. She slumped forward.

"Shinobu!" Naru knelt down and grabbed the bluenette. "Are you alright?" She gently slapped the younger girl's face.

Kitsune chuckled. "Erm, maybe I went a bit too far?"

Haruka ignored the antics of the three and focused on Motoko. Moving closer, she poked the warrior girl in the shoulder. Motoko's eyes snapped up, her hands twitching, but when she saw who had touched her, she visibly relaxed. "Haruka, it's just you," she said.

"Anxious?"

"No, why do you ask?"

Haruka looked at the tenseness in the younger girl's shoulders, and refrained from rolling her eyes. "Just a thought." Haruka cracked her neck, and glanced out the window at the throngs of people cheering for the happiness of their princess. "So."

"So." Motoko said.

Haruka chewed on the end of her cigarette, which she had neglected to light. No time like the present, she supposed. Taking out her lighter, she ignited one end and took a drag. The refreshing taste of tobacco rushed down her throat and into her lungs. Her lips changed from a neutral frown to almost a smile.

"Su's getting married."

"Yes, she is." Motoko's voice was stern and without vulnerability.

"And what do you think of that?"

"I think that it is her life, her decision."

"But…?"Haruka prodded, knowing that there was more.

"But if that man does anything to make her sad, he would have wished that Su had not saved him during our initial encounter." Motoko's fingers caressed each other, searching for something that wasn't there. It was clear that her missing weapon was causing a great deal of duress on her.

"Please try not to strangle Keitaro with your bare hands."

"I wouldn't have to do if I had Shisui."

"Then you would just slice him in half."

"I still do not why that is not a viable option."

"Because I'm pretty sure Su would be displeased. Not to mention her entire country?"

Motoko was silent. "I will… abstain from causing any undue harm to the villainous swine."

"Good girl."

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, except for the few times Kitsune managed to get a rise out of any of the other tenants. When they arrived at the palace, which was decked out in every festive decoration and object imaginable, a team of royal guards escorted them inside. After a quick security check, they were shown to their room in order to dress for the wedding ceremony.

Haruka took the chance to see her cousin before the ceremony. When granted entry into the groom's suite, she found Keitaro pacing back and forth with his hands wringing themselves to meatloaf. His face was slick with sweat, his impeccable Molmolian outfit accenting his slight tan well, though his face was anything but serene. Haruka grinned at the scene and raised her hand, blowing out a ring of smoke.

"Yo, Keitaro."

Keitaro turned at the sound of her voice, and his expressions burst into cheer. "Aunt Haruka!" he cried, rushing forward to greet her.

He was met with a halisen to the top of his head. As he picked himself out of the floor, Haruka gave a small scowl. "That's Haruka."

"Heheh, sorry," he mumbled, though his tone was anything but apologetic. "What are you doing here?"

"What else, seeing my cousin's wedding," she answered. Grabbing his hand, she hauled him back to his feet, glad to see that aside from a few wrinkles, his suit was virtually unharmed. "How you feeling?"

"Like I'm gonna puke," he said plainly.

"Well, nothing to do for that. You are getting married, after all."

"So it's normal."

"Perfectly."

"How would _you_ know?" he said. "You've never been-" He didn't even see it that time, but he did see how nicely crafted a floor it was when he pulled his head out.

"Ow."

"You were saying?"

"Ahh…" he said. "Um, dear wise and glorious…" The halisen slapped against her knee. "And _young_, yes, youthfully young milady Haruka, do you have any advice for me?"

"Yeah," she smirked. "Don't puke."

He frowned but did not say a word.

* * *

Su was beautiful. Clad in white robes embroidered with silver and gold threads, she looked, for probably the first time in her life, like a real princess. And when she ascended those steps in front of her family and friends and all of her subjects, she would truly become connected to her dear suami.

She couldn't dream of anything more. With him by her side, her ambitions to make Molmol the greatest super power in the world, even above America, could easily be realized. There was something deep and special about her suami, and it wasn't just that he was a good kisser. There was an…intangible quality to him that she couldn't put her finger on. Maybe it was the way he bounced back from all her rough-housing, or maybe it was all the positive results she received when testing her latest inventions on him; but through it all, her suami was simply the most she could ever ask for.

Which is when the priest asked where the groom was, and there was a decidedly suami-shaped hole where he should have been, instead of breaking down, Su chose the other option available – the one that had endeared her suami to her in the first place – that of the huntress.

Tearing her wedding clothes off to reveal a skin-tight latex suit, Su ordered the trumpeting for the beginning of the hunt.

"_Deploy the third battalion of the Stalkers Corps! Find my dear suami!"_

She grinned. She would use all that she could to run him down. Tapping on the wrist of her suit, a small holographic screen appeared. She made a few inputs and slammed it down.

Behind her, hover jets blew away the tables of food and trimmings, bowling guests every which way. A monstrous suit of armor and electronics opened up to welcome her inside. She jumped in, buckling herself up and watching as the system booted up.

She was ready.

"_Onwards! For great snu-snu!"_

* * *

He ran. He ran because he had to run. He ran because it was the only way for him to survive. He ran because…well, honestly it was due to the fact that he had gotten cold feet and had made the stupidest decision possible.

So now he was running away from an entire _country_.

It was at this point that Keitaro reconsidered his hasty actions and wondered if maybe he should go back and just get it over with.

But then the giant mecha came and he was running all over again.

Seriously, what was _wrong_ with these people? Why did they have technology that only should have existed in the realm of entertainment? It was like he was trapped in some horribly-written story made by a person who had no concept of literary comedy and simply threw out what he felt was funniest at the time. What kind of hack wrote stuff like that anyway?

Keitaro slipped on a banana peel he certain wasn't there before and slammed face first into a coconut tree, which he was also sure wasn't indigenous to the geography. Jostled by his collision, several of the hard fruits fell onto his head, creating an eerie reverberation effect that to his brain-bashed ears sounded like notes on a xylophone.

It was then Keitaro knew that someone was just plain screwing with him.

Groaning, and massaging his newly-injured cranium, Keitaro sat up and shook his head to get rid of the double-images lodged in his eyes. When they finally cleared, he choked upon seeing that someone was there with him.

"Amalla?"

The older woman smiled toothily. "Hey there, Keitaro," she said. "That wasn't very nice of you to run off on my sister like that. I may have to be a responsible sibling and punish you for it." She snapped the length of leather in her hands, which Keitaro refused to believe was a whip in any size, shape, or form. Nope, just an innocent strip of material that definitely could not be used to lash him like the dog he currently felt he was.

"Nononono," he said vigorously. "You don't have to do that! Really!"

"Hmm, maybe not," Amalla said. "Or maybe…" She looked at him with a prospective glint. "I could hide you until everything blows over."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"_If!_" She pointed a finger at his face, perfectly manicured nails gleaming. "You agree to give me something in return."

"Anything! I'll-"

There was a shout from around the corner of the building. Amalla clucked her tongue and whistled. Shirou bounded from out of nowhere, chomped Keitaro around his waist, and bounded back out just as quickly. Amalla followed after.

When Shirou spat Keitaro back out, the runaway groom saw they were in some empty room of the palace he had not been in yet. Amalla looked out of one of the large windows that they had entered through and nodded to herself. "Okay, they shouldn't be able to follow us here."

Keitaro sighed in relief. "Thanks, Amalla. I really appreciate it." He looked around. Seeing a door, he figured he could sneak out from there and then into a less occupied-area of the royal grounds, or maybe out of the city entirely. He nodded. "Well, see y-"

"Uh-uh-uh!" She wiggled her finger. "You still owe me a favor."

Keitaro grimaced. "R-right." He started to turn. "Maybe I could guyai-yai-yai…" His eyes widened, and his face paled, all blood rushing to his nose and…other places.

Amalla finished shimmying her panties off; a collection of silk and lace that, by all accounts, was not made of enough material to actually do its job. In fact, the only thing it might have done was just outline the area it was supposed to cover.

His name was Eduardo, and he was about to act as the second visionary in Fred's wonderful doctrine.

Keitaro couldn't do anything as Amalla sashayed her way over, hips swaying in a delightful movement that barely missed revealing what Eduardo had covered. Her smile was catty, her eyes just _daring_ him to try and escape, but only succeeded in staking him in place. With a casual flip, she pulled the garments down on Keitaro's crown. She then lightly kissed the corner of his mouth and winked.

"Please to meet you…suami."

The wall to the room exploded inward.

When the dust cleared, a blocky mecha the size of a SUV hovered into the new opening, several barrels and rockets latched on the outside and ready to fire at a moment's notice. The mecha's visor scanned the room, bleeped a bright red, and zoomed in on the new couple.

The mecha retracted its missile launcher and opened up, Su jumping out with unrestrained glee. "Found yooouuu…" she crooned. When she saw Keitaro coughing, and the new addition to his apparel, her eyes widened. "Suami, you…"

"It's not what you think!" he panted. "I swear, it's just a-"

"You mean I get to stay with my sister?"

Keitaro's eyes went blank. "Whut."

Amalla nodded and sniffed, eyes teary. "He said he couldn't bear tearing us apart; that it would be criminal to marry you and leave me by the wayside."

Su approached Keitaro. "Is this true?" Her face was a vulnerable mask, hoping and pleading beyond measure.

"Whut."

"Yes!" Amalla threw herself onto her little sister, tears glistening down her cheeks. "He proposed to me so ardently, even going so far as to ask for my panties directly from the source! He said he would _die_ unless it was the three of us together."

"Oh, suami…" Su sobbed. "I never knew…" She grabbed and hugged his unresisting body. "I never knew that you care so much for my well-being. To go so far as proposing to my sister! I…I…" Keitaro shuddered. "No, no! Don't cry. Please!"

She let go of Keitaro and set her jaw. There was only one thing to do that would settle all of this amicably with regards to all participants.

"Double wedding time!"

* * *

The priest observed the new proceedings. So there was an extra bride this time around. Very well, polygamous marriages weren't unknown to him, though gaining a new bride during the wedding was a new trick. He speculated how much guts the groom had to attempt such a thing. Why, in all his years as a priest for the royal family it had never happened before. There were times when he had weddings three days in a row, but not within an hour and at the same time.

He glanced at the blushing brides and not-so-blushing groom. Su was still in her catsuit and refused to don her dress again, claiming that it wouldn't stay on for very long anyway. Amalla was smiling triumphantly, her original bridesmaid dress now trimmed to something more akin to nightwear. Keitaro was…sporting a lovely ensemble of ropes around his body, the lead held by Raulla.

The priest shrugged mentally. He coughed. "I guess we better get this over with so our new trio can get on with their happy marriage. So, we'll go with the short version." He turned to Su. "Do you?"

"Yup!"

He looked at Amalla. "Do you?"

"Of course…"

Finally, he ended with Keitaro. "Do you?"

"Do I have a choi-ee!" He looked back at Raulla, who had her Beretta tucked into his spine. She smiled sinisterly and gestured over at the rest of the royal family – all of which had some form of violence-deriving tool in their hands. He snapped up straight and forced a great smile. "Yes! Yes, I do! Happily! I do!"

"Then you're married! Congratulations! Someone kiss!"

Amalla and Su glared at each other, snorted, and cocked their hands back. They rammed their fists forward.

Su squealed while Amalla looked at her thrown-out scissors in scorn. She then shrugged. She would have her turn.

Su leaped onto Keitaro for her kiss, wrapping her limbs around in her customary embrace. When she finished, she stepped aside for Amalla. The woman made up for the delay, engulfing him in a searing liplock while she grabbed a handful of his rear. When she was done, the two stepped back, looked at each other, and grinned.

They knew what was coming up next, and they would enjoy it to the fullest.

As the entire congregation of Molmolians, foreign dignitaries, and Japanese cheered for the new generation of the royal family, Keitaro gazed up at the sky.

And wept.

And he wept for a long time after that…to his grave.

* * *

A/N: Second chapter gone. Sorry if this isn't up to my usual standards. For some reason I had a hard time writing this chapter. Don't know why, but I just couldn't feel my creative juices flowing. Ah well…Hopefully the next chapter will be much better, and you can see what kind of crap Keitaro will be thrown into now that he has TWO wives.

As a side note, I've decided to keep the possible wives inside the Love Hina-verse. As for why, well…I just though it might be easier to keep a coherent canon rather than just zipping all over the place. So expect the girls you know and love to be Keitaro's! On the upside, there will be international fun because, really, did you think Keitaro marrying someone from a different country wouldn't have consequences? In any case, keep looking and reading!

_Next Chapter – Honeymoon Hinjinks_


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